


All I Did Was Happen to Run Into You By Chance

by TeenCaterpillar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, loosely based on the song wanting by matt doyle, which is super cute and gay so listen to it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 02:36:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18769456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeenCaterpillar/pseuds/TeenCaterpillar
Summary: Steve's had a shitty morning so he decides to see a movie, but his hot neighbor is there and looking way too gorgeous.  And then invites Steve to sit with him.Bucky sees his hot neighbor while deciding when to see a movie and takes it as the universe's sign to finally go for it.





	All I Did Was Happen to Run Into You By Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Title is lyrics from the song Wanting by Matt Doyle.  
> Seriously, listen to that song. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2zHqHX0Dv90  
> It's just cute as hell and after Endgame I need some GOD DAMN HAPPINESS for my boys. No beta, barely proof-read, this is mostly for me tbh but I hope some other peeps like it too.

Steve had been late to class. Again. He had woken up late, no time to get a morning run in, and booked it to his Still Life class. He’d gotten there at ten past, apologizing profusely, but his teacher didn’t seem impressed. He let him stay in class, but had told him he was going to start docking points if Steve was late again. Steve had merely nodded and gotten to work drawing the objects Schmidt had put out. Once class had released, Steve headed out slowly, tired and stressed. He couldn’t take Schmidt docking even more points off his grade. He’d do it if Steve mouthed off at him for sexist remarks, but since Schmidt had friends in high places, he couldn’t do anything about the man’s douchebaggery. So, Steve’s grade in Still Life was already in a precarious situation and he didn’t need it to get any worse. Steve groaned and ran a hand over his face as he took the long way home, through the park, wishing he could do something to take his mind off the absolute bullshit his school was providing him with. As he walked, Steve began to feel better, the sun shining on his face, students playing frisbee, and the light spring breeze raising his spirits. He always felt better when walking through the park. He lived with Sam, which made home less lonely, but he loved being in a throng of people and feeling the energy that came with it. The joy and contentment that filled the air of the park began to soothe his nerves and he took a deep breath, sighing it out as he gazed out over the pond.

Suddenly, his phone chimed. He dug it out of his pants pocket and saw he had a text from Sam.

Sam: Hey, I won’t be able to meet up for that history movie you wanted to see tonight. Got a hot date ;)

Steve: no worries, don’t fuck it up

Sam: Learn to text correctly, Steve, and maybe I’ll listen to you.

Steve snorted and shut his phone. Well, if Sam was gonna back out to get laid, and Steve was already jittery from a morning of dealing with Schmidt, he decided he would go see the movie now. Sam always made fun of his love for history, but Steve couldn’t be bothered to feel any shame. History was full of beautiful stories, courageous people, and always reminded him that people have always been people. Good, bad, undetermined, it didn’t matter. People were always making games from pieces of soap, reading or telling stories, and helping each other. Steve smiled to himself as he left the park, heading for the cheap theater not too far from his apartment. When he was about a block away he noticed a familiar head of shoulder length brunette hair. Well, familiar because he was always staring whenever he saw it. Steve sucked in a breath as he took in the rear view of Hot Neighbor, who was wearing sinfully tight pants and a leather jacket. As much as Sam teased him about his superhero physique, Steve was only human. And he was a sucker for leather. Hot Neighbor paused in front of the theater, looking up at the boards. Steve approached, ready to just walk by, because there was no reason for Hot Neighbor to know him, when Hot Neighbor turned and saw him.

“Hey, I know you. We live in the same building, right?” And fuck did Steve love that voice. The things he wanted that voice to say to him. Steve cleared his throat and nodded.

“Uh, yeah. Fancy meeting you here, huh?” Steve smiled but wished he could just melt into the ground. Fancy meeting you here? Who the fuck did he think he was. Hot Neighbor took it in stride at least, smirking.

“Yeah. Just came to see that new movie, Letters Home.” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s a history movie, which I know is like, one of the most boring genres for people, but I just think it’s cool.” He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance, but Steve could tell he was a little on edge. He got the same way when he explained his interest in history.

“It is. I actually came to see it ‘cause my friend cancelled on me and I love these movies. I’m actually a bit of a history buff.” Hot Neighbor lit up, his grin blindingly charming and Steve felt his knees go a little weak.

“I’ve never met anyone else who actually enjoys these movies!” He held out his hand. “I’m Bucky, by the way. Bucky Barnes.” The name fit him, Steve thought.

“Steve Rogers. Nice to put a name to the face,” he said. He blushed a little, hoping Bucky didn’t realize just how much he looked at the face. Because, shit. It was a face designed by the gods. The full lips, the sad grey eyes that sparkled with mischief up close, the heavy brow that just Did Things to Steve… Steve realized he had zoned out, and shook his head to get himself back together.

“Listen, I don’t wanna be too forward or weird or anything, but you wanna sit together? It’s always more fun if I can make comments about inaccuracies to someone.” Bucky started moving into the theater, and Steve followed, unbelieving. Bucky looked back, eyebrow raised, and Steve finally nodded.

“Uh, yeah. That sounds like fun.” Steve knew he was flushed. He could never control the blush that would always take over his face at the slightest touch of embarrassment. Bucky grinned and led Steve inside. They paid for tickets and silently agreed to get snacks. They stood in the line, quiet, and Steve found his eyes wandering to the cool gray shirt that was pulled tight against Bucky’s chest. The tone looked exquisite with his skin and Steve itched to draw him. To paint him. To...something. Anything, really. Bucky had a face that was meant to be drawn, meant to be captured in art. Like the muse of some homoerotic Greek artist. Steve imagined him, tanned and glowing, basking in the sun as his form was carved into marble like it was meant to be there. He got lost in the idea, taking in the way the shadows fell, and was brought out at the sound of someone clearing their voice. He looked up and saw Bucky staring at him, smirking but confused.

“Is there something on my shirt or something?” Steve really hoped he wasn’t imagining the flirty tone, but he didn’t want to project after blatantly ogling his neighbor.

“Oh no, I just, uhm, like your shirt. It really brings out the color in your eyes,” Steve stammered. And immediately regretted it. Of all the fucking things he could say. He felt his face flushing as Bucky stared at him, eyebrows raised. Steve had never, ever been good at small talk, much less flirting. All of his attempts had been met with uncomfortable silence, pitying looks, or laughter. Even Peggy, who had understood him the most out of all his partners, had a hard time holding back her smile when Steve would drop a really bad line. It was just hard to form his thoughts when faced with someone he wanted to impress. Even subconsciously. Or to just prove that yes, he was a Put Together Adult, Thank You.

\---

Bucky could hardly believe his day. He’d rolled out of bed to an angry voicemail from Natasha, reminding him he should really stop running off on his friends at clubs, before spilling his hot coffee on the groin of his pajamas. It’d been a rough fucking start. He’d crashed on his couch, pitying himself for a while, before deciding he should get out. He tossed on some jeans and his leather jacket, not bothering to tie his hair up. His bed head had subsided into beachy waves and he was gonna reap the benefits. As he locked his door he hoped that Clean Cut Cutie would be around in the lobby. Bucky had seen C³ coming to and from the apartment complex for the past couple of months. The man was like a sun kissed god and Bucky did everything he could to make sure he was around the lobby when he would be. Bucky luckily worked at home, so he could adjust his schedule as need be. He wasn’t stalking the man, though, despite how it sounded. He didn’t really go out of his way to be around, but if he noticed C³ came and went around the same times during the week, what was the harm?

He was such a fucking creep. Bucky sighed as he made his way down the stairs. He really needed to either step up and ask the man out, or stop being so lurky. But the man had a butt he couldn’t help but admire. It felt like the duty of all persons who saw it to appreciate the ass. Bucky had many, many feelings about That Ass. As he reached the lobby, Bucky did a quick sweep, and sighed a little when there was no C³ in sight. Just as well, he thought. He didn’t need any extra distraction this morning. And because she had the powers of a psychic, Natasha decided to call him at just that moment.

“Bucky.”  
“Where the hell did you go off to last night, Barnes?” Natasha’s voice was monotone and Bucky cringed. She definitely hadn’t calmed down since her voicemail.

“I wish I could tell you, Nat, but I did at least end up at home wearing the clothes I left in?” He wandered towards the corner shop a few blocks down; they had the best shitty coffee and he needed a caffeine boost. Natasha sighed over the phone.

“We just worry about you. Especially after--”

“No need to talk about it, we all know I’m a fucking idiot.” Bucky hadn’t meant to sound so terse, but he really didn’t need to be reminded of the one night stand that ended with him naked, wallet-less, and a nasty array of scars on his left shoulder.

“That was never up for debate,” Natasha said flatly. “Look, now that I know you’re fine I’ll get out of your hair. Clint wants me to tell you that you look like shit.” He could hear her smirking and Clint laughing in the background. He smiled softly. The two may be assholes, but they were his assholes.

“And I tell him to fuck off,” Bucky responded sweetly. He laughed as Natasha hung up, heading into the corner store. Grabbing the largest available cup, he filled it with their darkest roast and began to chug it before getting to the counter. The teen that rung him up barely lifted her head from her magazine, and Bucky was grateful. He really wasn’t feeling like forced small talk today. After chugging his coffee, and boy would he regret it later, Bucky meandered around his neighborhood. He’d gone grocery shopping already this week, the park had too many people at this time of day, but he didn’t want to go home. Bucky kicked at a rock, wondering when his life had become so boring. Club escapades aside. Being at home felt confining to him. It wasn’t like he had a huge urge to go anywhere, but being at home with nothing to do enhanced his cabin fever like nothing else. At least wandering aimlessly got him some exercise and out of the house.

He paused outside the movie theater when he noticed the movie he’d been wanting to see was finally playing. He was scrutinizing the times when out of his peripheral he saw someone approaching. Bucky turned, ready to flash the accepted flat line smile strangers gave each other, when he saw C³ approaching. And fuck if that wasn’t a sign, he didn’t know what was. Today was the day to bridge the gap between neighbors, he thought.

Which is what brought him to where he was. Standing in line, waiting to get soda, and gaping at Steve who had just used perhaps the worst pick up line in the history of pick up lines. It took Bucky a moment, and looking down at the floor to stifle his laugh, because how fucking endearing, but he swallowed it all down and shot Steve a shit eating grin.

“Thanks. I like your shoes. They look comfortable,” he drawled. And boy did Steve look pretty when he blushed. Bucky was so fucked. Especially if Steve was just a friendly guy who gave out confusing signals. God, did he hope Steve was gay. Or bi. Or just into Bucky.

“Uh,” Steve stammered, “Thanks?” Bucky smirked again and winked, thrilling in the way Steve blushed again. Now, Bucky wasn’t necessarily the best at reading signals, but if Steve was straight, he’d eat his own foot. The man was definitely at least bi-curious, which, truly, meant he was actually bi, and now all Bucky had to do was make sure the flustered looks Steve sent were because he was into him, not just easily embarrassed. Bucky began to talk about what he knew of the movie, sparing Steve with a kindness he usually only reserved for close friends. Immediately, Steve lit up. Bucky listened to him, drawn in by his animated gestures and the light in his eyes. It was obvious Steve loved people. He said history, but Bucky could tell that more than anything, Steve loved people. The way they made a community together and protected each other. It was incredibly enchanting, the way Steve seemed to love.

Bucky was so caught up in admiring Steve, he only realized they had sat down when the lights dimmed and someone hushed Steve, who was still talking. He blushed and ducked his head, obviously self-conscious, so Bucky rested his hand on his arm and when Steve looked up, surprised, Bucky winked. Though Bucky could see Steve’s ears were tipped with red, the warm smile he gave him made Bucky’s heart beat faster. He took his hand away, missing the feel of Steve’s skin against his hand. He shook his head, trying to chill out, and did his best to focus on the movie.

It was a good enough movie, as historical fiction goes. A story about letters between two friends, one who is unable to fight in the war, the other off in the European trenches. Bucky could cut the homoerotic tension in that movie with a knife. Of course, the friend off at war passed away, leaving his friend behind, who then married and had kids, one of whom he named after his friend. Bucky rolled his eyes a bit, but hey. That was the way. Homoerotic tension that ends in hetero love. He and Steve were the only two who stayed all the way through the credits.

“All of these people worked on the film,” Steve said, “And they deserve to be recognized for that, even if they weren’t an actor.” Bucky wanted to kiss him. So instead he just gripped his thigh tightly and tried to will himself to just keep his chill for like, ten minutes. Once the lights came back up and a gangly teen had entered to start collecting trash, Steve and Bucky left. They were both quiet as they got to the lobby, then outside, where they finally paused. It as now or never, Bucky thought.

“I was wondering--” Bucky began.

“You wanna get coffee?” Steve cut in. He was flushed and wouldn’t meet Bucky’s eye. “I-I mean, to talk about the movie. Or something. Or…” He trailed off and began to fidget with the hem of his shirt. It was too fucking cute.

“Yeah,” Bucky smiled. “But I’d rather it be a date.” Steve’s head snapped up and the hopeful grin on his face warmed Bucky to his core.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Bucky took Steve’s hand and began pulling him down the sidewalk. “There’s a great place a few blocks over-”

“Fury’s?”

“Yeah! You gotta try his lemon squares. We can share one while we talk about how gay those two could have been.” Steve threw his head back and laughed before giving Bucky’s hand a gentle squeeze. And Bucky knew then that he was never going to let this man go.


End file.
